Looking Glass
by Happyfancyme
Summary: It was as if they are both in the same phase of intellect. It was one day when Mrs. Hudson met Camille and one day seeing her in Baker's Street almost dying.
1. The Visitor

**A/N: This is my first story for Sherlock. Please let me know your comments and suggestions if ever. Enjoy reading**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Camille.**

"Molly?" Camille knocked. She was standing in Molly's flat for about one hour now. She placed her cellphone in her ears still no answer. She was calling her for the tenth time now. She must have stayed for work rather late now. She scribbled something on the paper and slid it down on Molly's door, so that she knows she was there.

Camille dragged her luggage outside the apartment and hailed for a cabbie. It was already 12m.n. She was beginning to be exhausted for this was rather taking all her energy from the flight and she hadn't had a proper dinner yet. The rain never stopped since she arrived in London.

"I will eat dinner then look for a hotel." She snapped. She reached for her purse then saw the paper that Mrs. Hudson gave her. Finally a cabbie stopped in front of her. She opened the cab and went inside.

"Baker St." She said to the cab driver.

00000

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson screamed as he called him. Sherlock was in his couch drizzling off to sleep when Mrs. Hudson came in his doorway. John went out his room and was wondering why Mrs. Hudson was screaming this late at night.

"Sherlock, I need your help" Mrs. Hudson said her hands was trembling and was full of blood. Sherlock eyes flutter and woke up in disbelief. She held Mrs. Hudson and led her to sit down but she doesn't want to sit down.

"Oh, my Mrs. Hudson what happened to you." John said as she reached for Mrs. Hudson as well.

"Camille" That's the only word she could utter.

Sherlock rushed downstairs and saw the girl Mrs. Hudson was talking about. She was lying on the floor her left abdomen was covered with her own blood. He rushed to her fast and took her lightweight body in his arms and led her straight to his room.

"John I need you, get your medicine kits ready we have a visitor and a patient"

Sherlock examined her body in his bed. Her wrist and arms was full of marks and bruises, she must have been fighting the intruder who wanted to have advantage of her. Her clothes were ripped showing her bare shoulder and her forced bra was destroyed from the attempt. Her skirt was dampened and there were dirt covered all over her legs. She must have been forced to the ground. He looked intently in her private part no signs of forced rape. Her underwear was still intact but he was surprised when he saw that the intruder made a mark on her left thigh. He saw a blood in her right knees. But it was not anything coming from her. It was from his intruder. He smiled in disbelief.

John came rushing into his room. Sherlock stepped back and let john mend Camille's wounds.

He looked at her intently and he could see from the corner of her eyes she just arrived in London. The circles around her eyes from exhaustion was the signs and most especially the watch was not in London time.

"Mrs. Hudson, I believe you just met this girl during the flight." Sherlock said.

"Yes, I cannot believe this had happened to her Sherlock. She told me she was going to stay in Molly's place."

She stammered and started to cry. "Molly Hooper?" Sherlock asked. "Molly is her best friend" She continued. "I also asked her to look around the apartment as well during our flight. She is moving here in London for her job."

Sherlock dashed outside his room and was wondering why she was being followed. Little did Mrs. Hudson know Camille was being stalked by a man she hasn't even seen before? Obsessed by her rare beauty and wanted to kill her.

"Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "Is she going to be alright?"

Sherlock held Mrs. Hudson's shoulders "Of course she will. She will be, John did good mending her wounds." He said quietly. "I think she needs a proper bath, Do you think you can help her up Mrs. Hudson?" He asked. Mrs. Hudson nodded and patted Sherlock's cheeks and went straight to his room.

He sat in his chair placing his two pointy hands between his chin. John sat across him.

"What are you thinking?" John finally asked.

"It was an attempt of raped and murder John."

"I could tell it as well. Her clothes where almost ripped apart. Poor girl. Her wounds was not that deep actually it was rather a deep cut across her abdomen but I think she suspected it before the intruder could possibly kill her. She was still thinking on a crime like that. But she was punched in her stomach really hard Sherlock. She has a lot of bruised marks actually. Her lips were swollen. Someone slapped her really hard. " John said in disbelief.

Sherlock smile is visible now. "It was her most amazing skills actually john." Sherlock said standing up

"What did you say again?" John said confused. "Her skills, it's her hands, her body language and her intellectual capacity saved her from not dying. Her mind is in a calm state as she thinks on her intruders weak spot. She let the intruder hurt her before she could fight back."

"So you mean to say she was not scared while she was almost in the verge of dying and your telling me she is still thinking calmly while she is about to die?" John said in disbelief.

"Yes" He snapped. "It's a gift she has skills like that. She is gifted john with the most wits, that's why I knew why Mrs. Hudson was fond of her." "She was almost raped Sherlock!" John said yelling.

The doorbell rang as both of them were discussing. John stood up from his feet

"Who is it this late at night?" He asked. Sherlock walked passed him and went straight downstairs to look at the spy glass door. John was behind him.

Sherlock was surprised that no one was there. He opened the door and a smile lit on his face. Standing in front of them was Camille's luggage and purse untouched and a note on top of it.

Sherlock opened the note and it wrote down,

_'__Sweet, salty, bitter I cannot get enough of you. Welcome to London my dearest Camille'_

Sherlock folded the paper and placed it on his pocket.

"She's in trouble John, we have a case." Sherlock smile was immeasurable for he was so thrilled what he had in their door stepped just hours ago. Camille.


	2. Pain

**A/N: This is my first story for Sherlock. Please let me know your comments and suggestions if ever. Enjoy reading**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Camille.**

Camille half opened her eyes as she moved her whole body. She was in pain. 'How long am I been sleeping?' she thought to herself. She scanned the whole room. It was very neat and orderly. She presumed it was a man's room. She snapped back to her own agenda for she had no time speculating the whole area. All she wanted is to get out of this place. She was feeling uneasy moving her whole body more. Her left thigh was burning in pain but mostly her left abdomen was more painful than anything in her whole body. She tried to half get up. She was wearing a man's shirt. She traced her fingers through the material. It was cotton and it was freshly laundered for it smelled soothing. She moaned in pained trying to move her hips now.

'Camille! Wake up! Get up!' She was screaming in her thought. Finally she managed to touch the floor with her bare feet. Her body in sitting position was now in the edge of the bed. She knows this was the trickiest part, getting up.

She put all her force in her arms and tried to hold on to the edge of the lamp table beside her. It was killing her bit by bit. For the pain is now getting into her system and into her mind. She could feel the fresh wound in her abdomen splurged a little blood marking the bandage and staining the shirt a bit of a small dot. She never imagined and though what she got herself into. All she wanted to know is what happened to her and get out of this place.

She slowly took her first step and another until she reached for the door knob. This time her whole body was shaking in pain. 'Get it on. Relax. You're not going to die yet' She said to herself. She turns the knob open.

She finally saw light when she saw a figure of an old lady preparing breakfast. She forced herself into the edge of the wall putting all her weight to support her as she moved her body into the living room. She felt her abdomen splurged another blood. This time she bit her lips not to scream. Intoxicating the pain she was feeling, she managed to hold on another door. She rested her head and waited for another moment before she could move but when suddenly the door she was leaning on opened. She screamed in disbelief for she knew she will fall hard on the ground with all of her balance not in a stable situation she closed her eyes, she has to think fast before she hit the ground. Her mind was racing and remembering all of the things she could visually think of walls, door edge. But to her surprise her mental thinking stopped when she felt strong hands grabbed her beneath her waist supporting her whole body. Her head rested onto the bare skin of someone. It was warm and she could smell the soap from the person's bare skin. 'A man.' she thought to herself. She felt the strong hands enveloped in the small of her waist when finally she opened her eyes.

The man was staring at her as she looked up to him. Their face where closed to each other. His dark curls were damp from the shower and his eyes. Those gentle eyes were staring back at her. She shook her head in disbelief breaking the mesmerizing encounter she pushed him away her strong grip made him loosen his hands on her waist. She forced herself away from his grip when she accidentally grabbed the towel that was enveloped on his lower waist. It was not the improper balanced she was looking for. The man in front of her lost his balance as well. She fell flat on the floor when she felt another heavy person on top of her.

"Get off me!" Camille screamed. She was weak enough but she is gathering her energy to punch the guy on the face and managed to do that. She was feeling uneasy when she felt his groin onto her legs. She shrieked in disbelief. Disgusted with the feeling she arched her knees to potency his dangling groin. But to her surprise the guy managed to maneuver his hips away from her legs. He grabbed her both arms and was entangling himself from her squirm. His both legs were locking her lower part to keep her body moving and to ease the visible blood in her abdomen already.

"Camille! Stop, I am not going to hurt you. It's me Sherlock!" Sherlock yelled. He was obviously naked already in front of her. "Calm down! Mrs. Hudson! I need your help!" Camille was not responding. Her senses her feelings was blocked in anger now. She hated and is disgusted with a male figure who is not wearing anything. She was screaming and screaming and was crying until finally.

"Dear, Calm down! No one is trying to hurt you. It's me Mrs. Hudson." She went to Camille's side then she finally stroked her long black hair away from her face. Sherlock stood up and wrapped the towel again around his waist and when to his room to dress up.

"Hush now. Everything is going to be okay." She said rocking Camille back and forth. Camille was crying really hard as she managed to pull herself together and made herself calm down.

She looked into Mrs. Hudson's eyes. Her eyes were swollen from crying and all she could say to her was

"Help me."


	3. The Photo of Malice

**A/N: I have finally made it through the third chapter. It was harder than I though but I hope all of you will like is my first story for Sherlock. Please let me know your comments and suggestions if ever. I would love to have reviews to improve my story. Enjoy reading**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Camille**

Camille sipped her hot chocolate that Mrs. Hudson made for her. It tasted good but she was not really in the mood on taking any food the whole time she was staying in Baker Street. But everyone except Sherlock was asking her to eat. She just kept quiet and look outside the window as they walk away from her. Even John was worried about her condition. She was sitting quietly in the living room while Sherlock and John were in the kitchen.

"We better ask Molly to come over." John said to Sherlock

Sherlock was busy with his laptop not looking at his friend.

"Did you even hear me Sherlock?" He said again now trying to distract him and waving his hands. Sherlock looked at him and smirked and finally said a word.

"I will ask you a scenario John" He finally said typing away while he answers his brother Mycroft who was chatting with him. They were playing the game of deduction. It was a mere action for the both siblings to be at par but eventually the game was merely a thing they usually do.

"What is it?" John asked.

"Two best friend not seeing each other for a long time. Finally reunited but the other had a bad experience will it help? The other is crying and the other was comforting her. She talks about what happened and finally the other said it will be alright. But it is not alright. So I am asking you John what the other girl will do with a traumatizing experience respond to the outcome?"

John kept quiet for a moment figuring out the whole scenario that Sherlock asked. Finally he remembered the time Sherlock faked his death.

"Mad?" He mumbled, "I remembered my emotions when I finally knew you were not dead. Mad of course."

Sherlock smiled. "I remembered you were ballistic and even ferocious that you kept on hitting and hurting me. You're Christmas John! You better call Molly to come over." He shut his laptop off and went to the living room to check on Camille.

Sherlock was looking at her. She was sitting quietly and was looking outside the window. It was merely hard for him to see who she really was. All he knows was she is scared but her calm presence was so different when he looks at her. He watched her for a long time. Sherlock was interested; her presence was giving him excitement of curiosity of who she is. She was lost somewhere he couldn't even fathom. Her calm observance was keeping him busy. He was enthralled on how she becomes fatal and how she quiet down. It was an act that not any normal person can possibly do, to be perfectly still.

Camille took her sketch book out and IPOD and placed the two earphones in between her ears. She knows she was not supposed to move but she needs to keep herself busy and she cannot even bear herself being in this kind of state. She silently opened her sketch book and started to draw as she listened to her playlist. Bittersweet symphony was playing on her track list. It was making her calm and think.

Sherlock observed her behavior. It was as if a looking glass. He could see himself except that she was not a detective. She was an artist. If he reversed everything it was him he could see. She chose not to feel anything from any other human species. He smiled as he carefully stroked his left thigh. It was making him nervous. Why would he be nervous he thought to himself? He slowly moved across the room back and forth. He was thinking of something to say. Camille stared at him she was distracted by him. She could hear john talking to someone on the phone

"Thank you" Camille finally said looking up at Sherlock. She forced herself to stand up but she felt her left thigh hurt and the sketchbook she was clinging on to fell and fluttered opened. Papers and sketches and photos that was inserted was scattered on the floor. Sherlock knelt down to pick it up for her there are some photos of her with a guy, he even notice a family picture with her and a photo of her and Molly that was probably a college photo. But he was caught off guard when he noticed a photo that was taken from the airport and Camille was calm looking at it and she even didn't notice that that someone took her photo and he knew it was taken yesterday when she arrived in London. He flipped the back of the picture inscribed was a perfectly hand written message and he presumed that the pen used was expensive and judging from the writing was a malice of lust towards the victim. "you're mine." He said his baritone voice was uttering it word by word. Camille's eyes grew in disbelief. She also saw the picture that Sherlock was holding and she felt her stomach turn around and was about to vomit. "Ho- How is that thing got in my stuff?" She was now uttering her words and was beginning to panic. "I feel unsafe." She finally said. Her voice was in higher tone already.

John went into the living room when he heard Camille's voice he was trying to call Molly but couldn't reach her it just kept on ringing but no answer from Molly's end.

"I, I clearly remember that I don't have that photo. It is impossible for, someone like me to have such thing after, after …" Her voice trails off and she began to cry. She couldn't bear it. She was scared and she even can't imagine how these people can keep on protecting her.

John went to Sherlock and he noticed the photo Sherlock was holding. He was as well surprised it was her. This time he was looking at Camille. He moved closer to her and placed his hands on her shoulder but Camille swept it away. She doesn't want any comfort to anyone as of the moment.

"If you keep on doing that ridiculous crying it will not help you." Sherlock said. Now he was looking at her seriously.

"Sherl-." John was about to scold his friend for being rude. But Sherlock waved a finger to let John shut up. He wanted to make Camille stop her unbearable self-pitying but it was not a mere game of deduction he could clearly think of. It was a game of control.

"Focus, you were almost dead when I saw you in our doorstep last night. John managed to mend your wounds and bruises last night. Mrs. Hudson cleaned you up and changed your clothes. The reason why we did not rushed you in the hospital or even phoned the policed was it will be unsafe for you to be any near those kinds of people. The police can be sometimes careless in this kind of matter and you might be killed anytime soon." Sherlock said. This time she manages to stop crying and was wiping her tears away. She could see Sherlock in a blur and her eyes were so swollen. 'He was right' she thought to herself. She clearly knew he was now trying to break the ice between them and wanted her to trust him. She gazed into his dark eyes and she could feel he was trying to control her emotions.

"You were almost raped last night." John finally said in concern.

"Can you tell us what happened exactly?" Sherlock asked.

Now it was her turn to speak up.

"I went to Molly's flat she was not answering my phone calls. I decided to look for a hotel. I found Mrs. Hudson's address and thought about getting the room she was offering me during our flight. I told the cabbie to take me to Baker Street. I realized that I was lost. I am not really from London. I am not sure about the city so I decided to walk and ask for directions to people. But as I look for Baker Street, someone was following me, a black car. "

She stopped and she could feel her self-trying to control her feelings. It was amazing how Sherlock manage to let her spoke to him quite easily after he said rude and uncomforting words to her. He managed to deduce her capacity of thinking. It was pure emotions she was contained right now but if he managed to give her something to think it will help her.

"It started to rain and I seek out shelter to a coffee shop. I decided to have a cup of coffee when I notice the car stopped as well and a man went out the vehicle he was old around fifty judging from his looks he was a business man. His face was elongated his eyes were a bit small his body features were lean. He was staring at me when he entered the coffee shop. It was the most uncomfortable feeling but I did not bother. I ordered coffee but he walked passed through me and I got out of balanced. I noticed he was grabbing me from my behind he he..." Camille's voiced trembled and she couldn't continue her story.

"What did he said?" Sherlock asked. Now he moved closer to her and he saw her eyes terrified. She pointed the photo that he was holding. The message that was written was the exact words he told her.


	4. Trust

**A/N: This is my first story for Sherlock. Please let me know your comments and suggestions if ever. Enjoy reading**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Camille.**

Sherlock gazed long into his ceiling while he was resting in his bed. It has been two week since Camille was already staying in Baker Street and occupying John's room. It was a bit awkward at first but John and Mrs. Hudson decided that it would be best that He would be the one looking around her until she finally got over her traumatizing experience. It was an option to say no and he was Sherlock after all a sociopath who will not care on other people. It occurred to him that her presence was different to be around with especially she was a girl. John was tolerable for him and to share as a flat mate, but ever since he got married with Mary things began to change. They were able to contact Molly and she couldn't bear the fact on what happened to her best friend. She felt very sorry about it and manage to visit her after work and was as well convinced that she should stay in Baker Street for a while until she feels better. Mary as well met Camille and was able to to help her up with her bad experience by asking her to draw more often and keep herself busy to make her forget.

Sherlock curled around letting out a sigh. It was the most unusual experimentations of having people around and curing her. It got across his mind that the whole point was still unanswered to him. He closed his eyes and he imagined Camille's features, her serene and enigmatic green eyes, black wavy hair that was resting at the back of her waist and unconsciously she plays with it when she feels nervous especially when Sherlock is around. Her slender red lips that until now he couldn't see any trace of smile since she arrived in Baker Street. Her body language when she moves around the flat as if she knows her way through his stuff without asking him anything. Her quietness that has been harder for him to deduce as she kept still and quite while he plays the violin while she was reading and listening to him play. It was almost making him impatient and most especially frustrated. It was harder to comprehend her. "What is she thinking" Sherlock said to himself he was now irritated. He got up from his bed lazily while he was on his pajamas. It was past midnight. He went through the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. He turns on the stove and placed the kettle on top of it while he waits for his hot water to boil. He took a mug from the cupboard when suddenly he heard someone screaming. He heard it from John's room. "Camille!" He rushed upstairs and opened the door. He saw Camille. She was having a nightmare. He rushed beside her and shook her shoulder to wake her up. "Camille, wake up. Come on now. You're dreaming. Wake Up!" He was still trying to wake her up. He touched her forehead and she was scorching hot. "Damn it! Wake up!" He shook her again and finally Camille opened her eyes. Her head was heavy when she woke up. "Sherlock," She said softly but she felt a hefty throb in her head. "Sherlock, I…" She couldn't carry on her words. She closed her eyes and tried herself once more to sleep. But couldn't.

"I will be right back." Sherlock said. He went down the kitchen took the hot kettle from the stove and poured it into the mug and prepared a tea. He took a cold wet towel and some medicine and went back to her room.

When he arrived he noticed that her breathing was unstable. She lifted her head up and helped her up in a sitting position making her head rest on the bed wall. She opened her eyes and looked at him she was having a fever. She could feel her whole body frail again. She couldn't even utter a single word to him. She breathed heavily but this time it was like she was catching her breathe she knew she was having her asthma attacks. "Sherlock…hmm…please get my purse." She said her breathing was shorter now. Sherlock got her purse on the table and gave it to her. He was now getting worried and was planning to call John but Camille broke his thinking "If… uhhmm" her voice was shorter and having short breathes while she randomly look in her purse looking for her asthma inhalers. "You're …Uhmm.. Planning to call John please don't." She took her asthma inhalers and finally opened her mouth and pressed the can. She did it three times until she finally felt better.

"I have asthma." She said. She took the mug from Sherlock and medicine pills and sipped the tea he had prepared for her. He was silent while he watched her. It was making him uncomfortable. Camille placed the mug on the bedside table and held Sherlock's hands. His heart was now beating fast. "Your heart rate is fast." She softly said. She was not looking into his eyes. "Am I making you uncomfortable Sherlock?" She finally said this time her eyes locked into his. He looked at her the way he imagined her minutes ago when he was in his bed. Her green eyes were now looking into his and this time he felt differently. He couldn't comprehend the feeling. It was intoxicating but it made him feel different his heart was now beating fast.

"I, I um. No. I was worried about you. I heard you screaming so I went to your room to check up on you." He said removing his hands from Camille's touch. She smiled. For the first time he saw her smiled. He felt his stomach turned around, it was making him excited and it was a simple though in his mind that she was feeling different as well towards him. But he could not quite understand it yet.

"Will you stay? Will you keep me company while I sleep?" She asked him. She blushed. It was inappropriate for her to ask such things to him especially with his attitude toward this. She was expecting that he will say no, but to her surprised Sherlock placed his hands on top of her head "Okay." Camille looked at him and smiled she lay down and Sherlock was besides her sitting at the edge of her bed. She took Sherlock's hands and gripped it firmly until she finally drifted to sleep

Sherlock stroked her black hair away from her face her nape was revealing her soft skin. He stared at her as she sleeps. He was feeling so different and he cannot understand it as well. Then without adieu he kissed her cheeks.

"Sleep tight." He whispered to her ears.


	5. Disguise

Chapter 5

Disguised

**A/N: This is my first story for Sherlock. Please let me know your comments and suggestions if ever. Enjoy reading**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Camille**

Camille woke up and sat up in the bed. She felt like drowning while she was lying down. The feeling was killing her even if she had taken her medications last night while Sherlock had woken her up from a bad dream. She closed her eyes remembering how their conversation went on and she thought that it was supposed to be awkward but it doesn't.

She looks over the entire room and it was the most unfamiliar place to be in as of the moment. It was the neatest, clean and masculine room she had ever stayed for this last two weeks. 'I feel like I'm in a 'hospital bed in all honesty' she thought. She slowly got up gaining her fragile state and went down to see what is for breakfast.

On her way to the living room she saw Sherlock in the kitchen. Sherlock was busy doing something. 'He must be preparing breakfast' she assumed, but she was not really feeling well to greet him her chest is still in pain. She slowly sat on the couch and grasp for some air, breathing slowly. She was perspiring while she keeps herself still in one corner of the room.

"Oh! Hey, you're awake good morning," Sherlock greeted Camille as he walks pass her and took one book from his shelves. Camille looked at him a bit hesitant on greeting him "He- hey. Good morning." She mumbled. Sherlock looked at her as if nothing happens.

"There was a shoot-out near the Buckingham Palace. It was quite interesting though but I turned down one inspector last night." He said still not looking at her. He was scanning the pages swiftly and closed it and went back in the kitchen to continue what he was doing. She sat there quietly and was wondering what he was talking about.

She clenched the cloth covers in the couch and was still fighting the chest pain, when Mrs. Hudson appeared in their flat carrying a tray of sandwiches' and tea. "Hi dear, Good and lovely day isn't it. I prepared some breakfast for you and Sherlock." She placed the tray on the table beside her and smiled and patted her hands. "You look pale dear, is everything alright?" Mrs. Hudson asked her worried. She smiled at her "I am okay." She paused and breathes once more. "I thought Sherlock was cooking breakfast. I just saw him in the kitchen." She said trying to change the subject. "He never cooks breakfast." She whispered "He is doing some experiments. I think he is frying an eyeball in the oven." She winked at her. Camille looked at her, her eyes were big. "No—No way" She stammered. Mrs. Hudson didn't mind it. It was a normal thing for Sherlock having those experiments done in his flat. It was a normal routine in 221 B Baker Street that he Sherlock was a scientist at heart.

"Sherlock! The messed you made" Mrs. Hudson said to him while she picks up the scattered paper on the floor. "I prepared breakfast. I think you needed something to eat young man." Mrs. Hudson said while she neatly places the scattered papers on his desk.

Sherlock was still silent and was still busy scorching his eyeball experiment. He was expecting on the result then he finally got bored and threw away his test on his sink. He plummets on the chair in the kitchen and he was feeling a little crossed on that kind of thought when he caught Camille looking really pale.

"How long was she been sitting there Mrs. Hudson?" he asked.

"Fifteen minutes. She looks pale, but she told me she was fine." Mrs. Hudson said to him removing all of his garbage in the kitchen table.

He got up and headed for her but stopped her mobile phone rang.

"Hello" She said answering the call.

'Hi Camille, this is Detective Inspector Lestrade. I was wondering what happened to you when you arrived here in London. You never replied to any of my emails and return my calls.' Camille jolted on the couch to stand up. She was flabbergasted for she almost forgot about everything.

"Oh! Hi" She stammered quickly. "I was not really feeling well. Also, something happened to me and I apologize for not returning any emails or calls. Rest assured I am okay for reporting for work." She moved away from the living room walking slowly downstairs. She rested her head on the wall and she placed a hand on her forehead. She was stressed out. She never imagined her world already stopped.

Sherlock slowly moved near the door eavesdropping on who she was talking too. He was very particular on everything she was doing since he finds the case of Camille quite interesting.

'Where are you staying as of the moment? I can drop by some work for you if you don't mind' Lestrade said.

"I was supposed to stay in a friends place but I am actually renting a flat in 221 B Baker Street. It would be easier for me to finally meet you and discuss work. I really don't mind since I am already been resting for two week now." She finally said. It took about five minutes after Lestrade said a word

"That's great to hear. I am on my way and see you Camille." With that they both hung up.

She wore a black knitted overalls and red leggings to match her top. Her studded heeled bootie was completing her whole look. She stared at herself in the mirror and glanced carefully on her pale face. "This is faking" She whispered to herself. She knows she is still not okay but she needs to be presentable when the detective inspector sees her. She took her make up kit and drew a line on her eyelids and under her eyes. She was emphasizing it more and it stand out with the way her green eyes carefully stared back at her. She took her mascara and slowly lifted her long eyelashes and finally took her red lipstick and drew a small tint on her lips. "There, much better." She looked again once more and finally let her loose black hair tightly knot in a high bun. She finally went downstairs and she saw Sherlock and walked passed him. He was quietly sitting on his chair typing something on his laptop and when he saw her he quickly took a glance and continued typing. She smiled at him and went to the kitchen to get something to drink. She was getting nervous about the whole meeting.

Sherlock was thinking why she was disguising the way she looks now. He grinned and smiled. 'Brilliant" He said to himself. He still was not looking at her but the movement she was doing in his flat was making him uncomfortable. He noticed she was moving closer to him. He moved in his chair and worked on with his recent cases.

"Um, I am expecting someone to see me today." She said to him finally cutting the smiles they were giving back and forth to each other. She was holding a cup of coffee while she walks toward him.

"Okay. I will be in the kitchen while the both of you discuss here." He said focused in his work.

"Do you want tea?" Camille asked

"Yes, please Black and no sugar." Camille placed her coffee in the near table and went back to the kitchen to prepare one for him. While she was making his tea she suddenly saw the whole experiments scattered in his flat. 'I think we need to clean this up a little bit and make this place a little bit of home.' She said to herself. She was beginning to wonder who Sherlock is. Since she arrived in London her life just turned upside down.

She handed his tea and sat on the nearest couch across him and took her sketch pad out. Now they were both in silence again. It was nothing much to say but she never imagined the conversation to be somewhat interesting to him. "Could you please pass me the newspaper?" Sherlock said to Camille. "Sure." She got up and took the newspaper on the couch and handed it over to him. "John will be here with Mary today. I think Mary will ask you to go out with her tonight." He said.

"It's nice of them but -"her sentence broke off. "Gregg?" Sherlock looked surprised seeing him. Camille turned around to look who was in their flat. She look at him closely he has greyish and some whites in his hair. Clean cut wearing a brown jacket with his blue jeans to match his white shirt. He stood in their doorway as if he was working on sleepless night for the way he put his whole body composure was making him wound up. Camille smiled. Lestrade walks towards Camille and took his hands out to greet her. "Detective Inspector Lestrade, you must be Camille?" He said. Camille shook his hands. "Yes I am. Finally we meet."

"How, did you two meet?" Sherlock look at them both surprised. "Oh! Why didn't I figure it out, the phone call that was him?" He was asking Camille now. Camille nodded at him "I will be working for him. She said. "I knew it! There is always something!" He said angrily. He was now gone from his mind and did not notice the two of them.

"I presumed you have met Mr. Sherlock Holmes." Camille said to Lestrade introducing him. Lestrade looked at her smiling. "I have known Sherlock Holmes. I know him for six years." Lestrade looked at Sherlock as if annoying him for the way he emphasized the word six. Camille looks at the both men left and right. "Gregg, I quite feel that you needed something to me? Ah! My help I suppose." Sherlock smirked at him "Is this the reason why you're here? If you're asking me again for the shootout in Buckingham Palace I will tell you it was a feud between suspected transactions of drug that is being smuggled outside of London. I hope you did your little research about the circulating underground criminals. I believe it will put and good appraisal of you." Camille took a back amazed on how he tells Lestrade about a crime scene. He was very fluent in all the facts that he gathered that she didn't realized that she's been staring at him listening to every words that he interjected to Lestrade. "Are you okay?" Sherlock asked. Camille suddenly shook her head slowly "Amazing! It's quite extraordinary you figure that out. It's not mentioned in the newspaper today"

Sherlock stopped. He finally realized that she was the second person who told him that. He smiled and remembers the moment John Watson and their first meeting. It was also the exact words John told him, amazing and extraordinary. He was about to explain it to her when Lestrade interrupted. "I was also here to discuss work with you Ms. Parker." He said to her. "I think we should sit down and start our meeting." Lestrade said Camille look at Sherlock who stood up from his chair and went straight to the kitchen. They both sat in the living room across each other. "I believe your former chief in NYPD asked you to join Scotland Yard for being a forensic artist. You uphold a great profession in New York; I believe you can able to catch up on every crime scenes we visit. I am teaming you up with Anderson who is also in Forensic. The qualification for this job is a strong stomach. Patience in asking the victims the right questions and of course you will be probably on call most of the time and late night are usually the time for all of these crimes. We usually try to keep it to a point that we travel most of the time. You can report for work next week. Your time is from ten in the morning and ends at around five in the afternoon of course were still on call." Lestrade said to her continuously. Camille looked at him and took a paper out and handed it over to him. "All of my file records are there. NYPD said to hand it over to you once I arrived in London." She signed the contract Lestrade gave her while she was signing Lestrade asked her a few questions. "Well, I was wondering how you came across Sherlock." She stopped for a moment. 'What am I going to tell him' she thought to herself. "I-" She spoke but all of a sudden Sherlock stood beside her and placed his hands on her shoulder. She looks astounded when he did that.

"I saw her in our doorstep almost half dead. I believe this woman was being stalked one night and was almost raped. Of course I already deduced the probability that she needs my help in solving her case. This situation of her is quite extraordinary for the intruder was leaving all note and clues for her but I myself is intrigued of the series of events. Her intruder is quite a clever man. He knows she is in my custody and left all her belongings in our door step the night I founded her and left her a licentious note. I was enthralled on the way his intruder kept it clean and gave no traces of DNA test. I did my test on the letters in Bart's but it never given me all the chance in solving her circumstance yet. The way I see things is not quite clear yet. The way she dressed up now is only a disguised to let you know she is fine. But deep inside her it is not what it looks like." He said watching Lestrade. He was motionless when he heard Camille's situation. He wanted to say something to her but he looked at her worriedly. Camille got up from where she was sitting and looked at him. She couldn't quite understand the mixed emotions she was having. She tightly fisted her hands controlling her astonishment to him "I was amazed on how you speculate me. I quite never understood it yet but thank you for pointing this out since that incident." She picked her stuff on the chair and wave goodbye to Lestrade. She final left the two men and went straight to her bed. "Disguise…." She whispered and closed her eyes. A tear fell from her soft cheeks. She never imagined Sherlock knows how she feels, and was there to help her out.' All this time she never asked him what he do for a living and this is making her think on how he is doing all those that he never really know who she is.


End file.
